“It’s cool. You’d feel guilty if you left her to work when she didn’t feel well. I have your number, man. We can even pretend it was my idea and you didn’t have to ask if you want.”

Wes paused, which wasn’t a surprise to Braden. He always seemed taken aback when Braden called him on something, when Braden called people on most things.

“I need to get to the ER. I...thanks.”

“No problem. Go save lives. We’ll be here when you get done.” He hung up before Wes could. Braden stood up. “Uncle Wes is going to be a little late, so we’re on our own for dinner tonight. What do you like on your pizza?”

Jessie grinned up at him. “Cheese.”

“And?”

Her nose wrinkled, as though she didn’t know what he meant.

“You only eat cheese on your pizza? You’re missing out, Squirt. Do you trust me?”

Another confused look.

“Never mind. I got this. You’re about to have the best pizza you’ve ever put in your mouth.” Braden made the quick call to order their dinner. They had time to watch a couple episodes of Tom and Jerry before the doorbell rang.

After paying, he walked over to the coffee table but Jessie said, “We can’t eat dinner in the living room. Mommy says it’s good to eat dinner at the table.”

Oh. “Cool. We can handle the table.” Wes usually worked six a.m. to six p.m. Braden usually left not long after Wes got home, so he hadn’t done the dinner thing with them except when Jessie was sick. He figured that didn’t really count, though.

“What about the TV? You have to turn off the TV.”

Oh. “Why do we have to turn off the TV?” He set the pizza boxes on the table. All three of them.

“Cuz dinner is to talk. Mommy says that’s when you talk about your day.”

Oh. And yeah, he was fully aware he’d thought Oh three times in a row, but often it felt like Jessie was the one watching him. Chelle must have been great. It made sense considering Jessie seemed smarter than any four-year-old he knew. “Sounds good to me.” He gave them each a paper plate, thinking about the fact that Jessie spoke about her mom as though she was still around. “You have to try this: pepperoni, sausage, onion and black olives. I know it doesn’t sound good, but it’s great.”

Jessie stuck her tongue out. “Ew. That’s yucky.”

“Yucky? It’s the Braden special,” he teased but she didn’t look impressed. “Fine. I bought you a cheese pizza, too. Don’t think I won’t remember this, though.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Ignore me.”

They finished eating. Braden cleaned up the mess afterward and Jessie watched him like she always did. “Are you having a sleepover?” she asked.

I wish, kid. “No. Your uncle will be home around seven thirty, so he’ll put you to bed.”

“How come you never have a sleepover? I sleep at Aunt Lydia’s.”

Hell. Why did he always get these questions? “Because I have my own house. I just like to hang out with you for a few hours on Wednesdays.”

“Don’t you want to sleep over? It would be fun.”

Yes, yes he did. He very much wanted to spend the night with Wes again.

Braden put the milk in the fridge. “I’m sure it would be, but...it just doesn’t work that way.” How the hell did he put it other than that?

“Why?”

Braden really wished he could ban that word tonight. “I’m craving ice cream. How about you?”

That easily, her questions stopped and her eyes went big. He’d have to remember to make sure Wes always had ice cream in the house.

After they had their snack, Jessie curled up with Jock on the living room chair and watched TV. She yawned about eight hundred times, and he thought about putting her to bed, but he had no clue what he needed to do to get her ready. He glanced at his cell. It was already eight. Where the hell was Wes?

Just as he went to dial, the door opened and Wes came in. “Uncle Wes!” Jock and Jessie both jumped off the chair and ran to greet him.

Braden watched Wes’s tired eyes brighten as he hugged the little girl. It didn’t change the bags he had there, or the slump of his body. He was obviously tired as hell.

“We had pizza and ice cream!” Jessie told Wes, who looked at Braden over her head.

“Oh, did you?”

“Is that a bad thing?” Braden asked.

Wes shook his head. “Nah. It’s okay to treat her sometimes.” Even his voice sounded lower and more exhausted than usual.